


Subtle Differences

by Magnetism_bind



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Biting, Canon Disabled Character, Denial of Feelings, Desk Sex, Emotions, Established Relationship, Finger Fucking, Fingering, First Kiss, First Time, Floor Sex, Gentleness, M/M, Marking, Rough Sex, Silver is confused, Silver's being a little shit, Topping from the Bottom, but come on, handjobs, lowkey manipulation, post Silver losing his leg, post-coital emotions, too many emotions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2017-05-27
Packaged: 2018-11-05 08:22:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11009613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magnetism_bind/pseuds/Magnetism_bind
Summary: After Silver loses his leg he starts noticing a change in the way Flint treats him in bed.





	Subtle Differences

The first time is subtle so Silver barely registers the differences. They're there nonetheless. He’s sleeping in Flint’s bed, for one. He's slept in Flint's bed before, it’s true, but usually it's at the end of a long night when he'd drunk too much rum to stagger back to his hammock. Those nights always end with Flint kicking him out in the morning and demanding to be left alone, which Silver is more than happy to do. They don’t linger over these encounters. It’s simply not what they do.

This time though Flint just says, "Stay. I have to go over some charts. No point in both of us being uncomfortable."

And Silver’s so grateful for the softer mattress, for his leg to rest comfortably for once, he barely notices that Flint never kicks him out later. He sleeps soundly for once and doesn’t dream of losing his leg.

*  *  *

It’s the third, or fourth time after that, he’s not sure which, when Silver definitely knows something is off. Flint's not handling him with his usual roughness. No, these days his hands could be characterized as downright gentle. They slide over Silver’s skin with their usual finesse, but there’s something different, something unfamiliar. It’s so different that it take Silver a while to pinpoint it.

"What're you doing?"

Flint slows. “What?”

“Your hands.”

Flint looks down to where his hands are. “What about them?”

“Why’re you…” Silver gives up questioning him as Flint’s hands slide down his thighs and Flint takes him in his mouth. This hasn’t changed, the way Flint mouths at him hungrily, this is the same at least and Silver sighs and arches his hips against that tempting mouth.

 *  *  *

It wasn't like this before. The first time they had been bare seconds away from killing each other and Flint had a wild desperate look in his eyes that Silver recognized even if he'd never seen it in Flint's. A look that meant danger and despair and recklessness that would catapult them both into the void if they weren’t careful.

So he'd kissed Flint. It was possible that had been a mistake, one that would wind up getting him killed, but Silver had taken the risk and tasted the warmth of Flint’s mouth nevertheless.

Flint freezes into stillness, and then his hand comes up to circle Silver's wrist before it could do what it is wont to do naturally, cup his cheek.

"What're you doing?" His voice is hoarse.

"I'd have said that was fairly obvious." Silver licks his lips. "You have been kissed before, I take it?" He’s on a precipice here. It would be easy for Flint to break his wrist, to do any number of things of him. He knows that. Flint knows that. No one’s in the dark on that respect.

Flint looks at him. “Do you even know what you’re doing?”

“Do you?” Silver murmurs. He takes the initiative and moves in to kiss Flint again.

This time Flint kisses him back.

 *  *  *

It’s over quickly and they’re both lying on their backs on the floor panting. Silver can’t believe that it actually happened, but the ache in his back and the spent limpness of his cock proves that it most certainly did.

Flint exhales slowly, letting the silence between them swell into an ocean and then, “What makes you think I wouldn’t kill you for that?”

“Why would you kill someone some who just gave you one of the best fucks of your life?” Silver’s taking a gamble here. He has no idea what kind of fucks Flint has had in his life. It had to have been up there though. (Silver has no false modesty in this regard. On this subject alone he’s just truthful.)

To his surprise Flint starts chuckling. He’s lying there on the floor of the cabin, laughing, and reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “You are unbelievable.”

“You’re not so bad yourself.” Silver tells him.

That just makes Flint laugh even harder.

It’s long before Silver knows about Thomas Hamilton. He’s only starting to know  the shallow waters of Flint’s murky depths at this point. He simply thinks it’s all timing and mutual lust and that’s the way it is.

“If you were truly intending to kill me, it wouldn’t have made a difference.” Silver places a hand behind his head. “It was worth it.”

Flint looks at him wordlessly and then he pushes himself up. He pulls off his shirt and heads for the wash basin.

“Get out.” There’s no menace behind his words. Silver goes. His lips sting and there’s bruises on his legs, but he’s curiously relaxed by the whole experience.

 *  *  *

The second time, they’re dancing around it, back and forth, waiting for the other to take a step forward, neither of them wanting to be the first. Flint’s eyes are on him every time Silver looks up and he realizes that this could be not only a satisfying arrangement, but potentially more useful than he first considered. It’s not the only reason of course. Silver wouldn’t do it if he didn’t find Flint the slightest bit attractive, he wouldn’t have kissed him if the challenge hadn’t been provocative, but the potential for _more_ , the thought of the possibility of wielding just slightly more influence in the crew, it’s simply too tempting to pass by. He needs this, needs to make himself useful on this ship and what better way than to have the ear, and the cock of the captain within his grasp?

 *  *  *

Flint had been jittery (not nervous exactly, wary is more the right word) of the whole venture than Silver would have expected.

(It makes sense later when he learns about Thomas. Silver understands _then,_ but not at first.)

Silver gets him alone in his cabin and Flint has his hand on Silver's neck. He could strangle him, could crush Silver’s windpipe easily enough, could do any number of things.

“I’m not going to be gentle with you.” Flint says brusquely. As though Silver had asked for that, or even expected it.

He hadn’t, for the record. He’s all too aware of what this is.

“I don’t believe gentleness is what either of us requires from each other.” Silver points out. He leans into Flint’s hand, waiting to be claimed.

Flint responds by slamming him up against the wall, kissing him hard with tongue and teeth. He kisses with the same intense passion that he possesses in every other aspect of life, and Silver wonders then, as Flint plunders his mouth, if he will ever truly know this man at all.

 *  * * 

The first time… oh god, there are so many first times, when Flint kisses him for the first time, violent and hungry as their mouths draw apart, and then quickly drew them back together for an even longer kiss that leaves Silver's entire body tingling with desire. The first time they fuck. The first time Flint pushes him to his knees.

But the first time Flint had sucked him off, Silver had honestly thought he would die. He’d had his cock sucked before, naturally. But this, Flint had simply pushed him down on the bed, half holding Silver with one hand while he bends his head to his task, holding him while he worked Silver’s cock with his mouth.

It had been fascinating in one regard. Flint himself, was doing this. _Flint_. One of the most feared and notorious pirate captains in the world. A man that Silver has seen brutally kill other men and lie to get his way, and threaten, and then there’s the man who showed him to spice a pig, albeit so the men wouldn’t discover that Silver had lied about being a cook, but all the same. He wouldn’t forget watching Flint’s hands sliding over that pig, glazing it with salt and olive oil. It shouldn’t have been arousing, but there you are.

And now, Flint’s got his cock between his lips, taking him in and out, fucking Silver’s cock with his throat.  Embarrassingly, overcome by the ginger head between his legs and the beard grazing his thighs, Silver spills all too soon.

Flint wipes his mouth and sits back with an amused smile on his face.

“Don’t look at me.” Silver makes an attempt to roll away but Flint simply catches him across the waist and holds Silver down until he crawls up his torso to kiss him firmly on the mouth until Silver sighs in contentment.

 *  *  *

“The men are restless.” Silver’s bent over the captain’s desk when he voices this opinion. It’s been a very long day and the rest of the crew are not happy. They need to do something about it if they don’t want another mutiny on their hands.

“The men are always restless.” Flint doesn’t stop moving, and it would be easy for Silver to get lost in this. He _is_ half lost in it, if he’s honest, but the sex, the feel of Flint holding his body as he thrusts inside him, isn’t solely why he’s here so he doesn’t allow himself to lose track of his aim.

“But this particular time they need something to keep their spirits up, if we just took a nice fat merchant ship, something to distract them until we get back on our true course…”

This time Flint pauses for a fraction, altering his stance enough to make Silver grunt faintly.

“Are we really talking about this right now?”

“It’s on my mind, that’s all.” Possibly this wouldn’t go as smoothly as Silver had anticipated. He really should have remembered that Flint is who he is. He hasn’t become this notorious captain by accident. People will have tried to manipulate him before.

“On your mind.” Flint repeats.

“I’m not saying this isn’t completely engrossing.” Silver hastens to add. 

Flint snorts. “Clearly.”

He adjusts his stance, eliciting a small groan from Silver, and starts thrusting again and Silver’s smart enough to keep his mouth shut.

Flint tugs his head back, sucking at his neck, biting down hard and Silver pants, pressing back against him, wondering why this is so good when it has no right to be. Not with Flint. Or maybe that’s it. Maybe it’s the people you shouldn’t want that always taste the sweetest.

 *  *  *

Later though they wind up on the floor, spent and sweaty and still.

Flint’s there beside him. “Merchant ship…”

“Mhhhm…” Silver’s barely thinking about what he said before. His skin’s tingling and his cock is soft and hot to the touch. He could sleep here on the floor quite easily if Flint would let him.

“Maybe then the men will stop being restless, if we take an easy ship.” Flint’s hand brushes his shoulder as he reaches for his breeches.

Silver watches him dress. And he realizes that this is the moment, in the afterglow, that’s when Flint is the softest, the easiest to reach with a few careful words, a subtle suggestion here or there.

After that Silver chooses carefully, testing the waters so to speak. It doesn’t give him undue influence. He’s still just the cook officially, and Flint’s still the captain. Those are their roles outside of these moments, but there’s something there, contained in this private space, all the same. Flint listens when he speaks and Silver quietly revels in the fact.

 *  *  *

Flint figures it out what he’s doing of course, because he’s not a fool. Perhaps Silver even hoped he would. He’s not too sure on that aspect.

He just knows that when he points out that Flint should switch two of the crew members's watch shifts to make a minor dispute go away, he catches Flint smiling before the smile vanishes.

“What?” Silver demands.

“Did you think I didn’t notice?” Flint’s words are almost a caress, affectionate even. But they make Silver’s toes curl in embarrassment, at him thinking the captain didn’t realize what he was up to, and Flint already knowing.

“I let it happen because I like hearing your thoughts. You’re useful.” He snakes a hand through Silver’s hair. “You see things, in different ways than me. I like that. I like hearing your words, putting that mouth of yours to good use.”

Silver quirks an eyebrow. “I thought you preferred it when it was otherwise occupied?”

“It’s pleasing enough when you use it in that manner.” Flint’s not denying the effect Silver’s mouth has on his cock. “But to be more plain in that regard, I like it better when you’re saying my name as you come.”

He slides down Silver’s thighs, opening his breeches easily. Silver props himself up on his elbows to watch with unabashed enjoyment.

 *  *  *

Now though. Now Silver tells himself he’s imagining things. Flint wouldn’t do that, not even now after the loss of his leg, not after everything they’ve been through, he wouldn’t go back on his word to keep things between them as balanced as before. Flint respects him at this point, doesn’t he? Doesn’t he?

It’s not until once again after where they’ve finished and Silver still’s lying there in bed (he does enjoy that part, the part where he’s now allowed to linger in the captain’s bed) and Flint says, “I’m famished. Stay here.”

He pulls on a shirt that trails to his thighs and goes out.

Silver lies there, gazing at the dark sky through the open window, not thinking much of it at first when Flint returns with a bowl of stew for each of them. He hands one to Silver without preliminaries and seats himself back on the bed beside Silver.

Silver just stares at the bowl. “You brought me stew.”

“Thought you might have worked up an appetite.” Flint can say these things without leering, unlike some men. He starts to eat the stew without saying any more.

“I’m not….” Silver pauses. “I could have gotten it myself.”

He’s not sure why this is so important, that Flint not treat him different now. He doesn’t want things to change.

Flint spoons up some stew. “Where would be the sense in that?”

Abruptly Silver flings the bowl across the cabin. It hits the wall, clattering to the floor, stew seeping over the floorboards.

Flint looks at him over his bowl, waiting for an explanation, something.

“I’m not... I’m not helpless.” Silver says stonily. “I’m just a man with one leg. I can get my own fucking stew.”

He didn’t want to expect more, didn’t want to say anymore. Why doesn’t Flint understand what he’s saying? What this sort of gesture means to him?

Flint rises to his feet and Silver’s reminded abruptly of how exactly imposing the man can be when he chooses, even when he’s half naked.

“Since you’re refusing my hospitality and you made a mess in my cabin,” Flint says evenly, “You can clean it up and get out.” He starts getting dressed without looking at Silver.

“Flint.”

“I’m going up on deck.” Flint doesn’t look back. “Have that cleaned up by the time I’m back.”

He leaves Silver sitting there in bed, watching the bits of stew seep down the side of the wall.

 *  *  *

Two days it’s like this. Eventually the rest of the crew notices. It's impossible not to.

“What’s with the captain?” De Groot asks pointedly one evening.

“Why are you asking me?” Silver asks, knowing perfectly well why the sailing master is asking him.

He knows he has to speak with Flint, but he’s simply not ready.

 *  *  *

At last though, Silver finally raps on the cabin door and pushes it open.

Flint’s reading at his desk. He barely looks up over his book. “Did I tell you to enter?”

“Can we talk?” Silver manages to sound civil enough.

Flint closes the book, but his finger rests between the pages, keeping track of his place. “What is it?”

Silver closes the door. “About the other night.” He hesitates. How can he explain this without Flint thinking he’s absolutely pathetic.

“If you no longer wish to be in my bed, all you had to do was state that fact.” Flint returns to his book.

“You know it’s not that.” Silver draws closer to the desk. “Can’t you understand…”

Flint just gazes at him levelly, waiting for whatever Silver’s about to come up with. His finger still remains between the pages. Silver can’t take his eyes off it. Why can’t Flint just focus on him for fuck’s sake?

“You said you wouldn’t be gentle with me.” Silver blurts out.

At that Flint blinks. “That was months ago.”

“So?” Silver says. “I didn’t know you were the sort of man who broke your promises.” He doesn’t mean it like that. Flint lies when he chooses to, and when it aids his cause, or when he simply doesn’t want to tell you the truth. It’s one of the things that first endeared him to Silver.

Flint’s face tightens. “So you want me to be rough with you?”

Silver swallows. “Yes.” He wants to say please. _Please, yes, that’s what I want. What I need. I need things to not change between us. I need to know I’m still the same man aboard this ship. Please understand._ But he can't say that. Not aloud. Not to Flint.

Flint sets his book down and moves around the desk. “Put your hands on the desk.”

“Flint.” Silver starts.

Flint simply knocks him down on the desk without another word. “Obey your orders from your captain.” He hisses. “If you want me to play the brute, by all means, I’ll play the brute.”

“It’s not…” Silver begins, but Flint’s in no mood.

He grips Silver by the neck and pushes him roughly against the desk as he draws down Silver’s breeches.

“Is this how you want it?” He bites at Silver’s throat as he reaches between Silver’s legs to tug at his cock.

Silver groans, even as his cock swells to hardness from Flint’s touch. “Yes.”

Flint leans past him to reach some oil. He sticks two fingers into Silver without warning and Silver hisses at the intrusion. He grips the desk as Flint works him open with quick bruising motions.

Then the fingers are gone and Silver bites his lip, knowing what’s coming next.

Flint grips his hips, thrusting into him in one glorious motion.

“Tell me how you want it.” Flint’s got his hand on Silver’s cock again as he fucks him over the desk, the edge of the wood pressing uncomfortably into Silver’s waist.

“I want you to be rough.” Silver pants. “I want you to fuck me harder than ever, I want you to leave bruises painted across my skin. I want to feel you even when you’re no longer inside me.”

Flint muffles a groan and tugs his head back to kiss him, teeth sinking into Silver’s lip, hot and sharp with desire. Silver tastes blood on his tongue and kisses Flint harder.

Flint pulls his head away, as he changes angle again, pressing Silver so that his torso is completely flat against the desk and he can’t reach his cock as Flint moves faster.

There’s a faint guttural sigh as Flint finishes in him, and then he pulls out, leaving Silver slumped over the desk, Flint’s slick seeping down his thighs.

Silver pushes himself up. “Um, excuse me?” He gestures between his legs to his own cock. “What about me?”

Flint shrugs. “If you want it, ask.”

“What?” Silver stares at him as Flint returns to his chair.

“You heard me.” He’s just sitting there, cock still out, hair loose, gazing at Silver. “Alternatively, just tell me what the fuck this is all about.”

Silver laughs incredulously, shaking his head. “Very well.” He pushes himself up, wincing slightly at the ache in his leg. He doesn’t miss the look in Flint’s eyes and that just pisses him off.

“I want to fucking come. I want to not think about _this_.” He gestures at his leg. “For just a little while, and I thought that I could get that from you, but you had to be fucking gentle and treat me like I'm half broken now because of my fucking leg, like I can't fuck like before. Like I can't..." He voice fails and his hand curves tightly into a fist, keeping himself from saying anything more than that. He's already said more than enough.

Flint frowns at this messy confession and Silver waits for him to say something about it, but when Flint speaks all he says is, “Come here.”

It’s a command, so Silver half pulls up his breeches and goes over to him.

Flint’s hands slide down his body, over his back, tugging Silver's breeches back down so his hands cup Silver’s bare ass.

He lifts Silver onto his lap, settling Silver’s cock against his. “Come on then.”  

Silver stares at him, and then he leans in to kiss Flint. The angle’s not entirely comfortable but Silver ignores that, grinding himself against Flint’s soft cock. Flint’s got a hand drifting down between his cheeks to tease at his slick hole before one finger slips in, and then another.

Silver rocks harder against him, panting as Flint’s fingers push further inside him, curling tighter, stroking him until at least the sweet trembling rushes over him in a wave and Silver gasps as he comes, spilling over Flint’s bare stomach and chest.

He’s still panting as he rests his forehead against Flint’s.

“Thank you.” Silver whispers. Aware as he does, that simply acknowledging Flint doing this for him is changing things anyway.

Flint eases him off his lap but instead of making him leave, he simply draws Silver over to the bed.

“Lie down.”

“But.”

“Lie. Down.”

Silver does.

Flint doesn’t immediately touch him as he lies down beside him, but their legs press together on the mattress and slowly the tension fades from Silver's body. It’s peaceful in the cabin and he can almost pretend this is just the usual pattern that follows after they fuck.

Flint’s eyes are on the sea, gazing through the open window above them. “Things change.” He says quietly.

“What?” Silver turns his head to look at him.

“It’s not me breaking my promise. Things change. It’s inevitable.” Flint repeats. “We’re not solely the same men to each other that we were all those months ago.”

“I can see that, but…”

Flint cups his hand to his cheek and Silver’s drawn into silence. Flint rubs his thumb along the curve of Silver’s jaw, gazing at him with unexpected tenderness.

“Does anything about my behavior towards you make you think I think less of you now?”

“No.” Silver has to admit. Not really, not when it came down to it. He hadn’t thought of it exactly like that.

Flint nods as though that’s enough, that explains everything.

“Why though?” Silver asks eventually. He feels reassured by Flint’s words but at the same time he still doesn’t understand.

“Why?” Flint murmurs. His arm’s behind his head now and his other arm rests on Silver’s thigh. “If I can’t be gentle with you, who can I be gentle with?”

Silver turns his head. “Why does it matter for you to be gentle with anyone?” _Why me_ is what he truly wants to ask.  

“You haven’t been at sea long enough.” Flint gazes back at him. “If you had, you’d understand.”

He gazes up at the roof, lying still.

“So fucking me is because you’ve been at sea too long.” Silver murmurs. “Being gentle with me is because you’ve been at sea too long. What else do you use that excuse for?”

Flint’s laugh escapes in a huff of breath. “Come here and let me stop your mouth.” He leans over and kisses Silver’s mouth, tongue sliding into his mouth and reminding him exactly who’s captain here. “You’re here because I want you. Does that satisfy you?”

Silver shrugs.

“Then know this, because I trust no one else in my bed or at my side.” Flint says. “And you could lose your other leg, your arms, even those fucking curls of yours, and it would make no difference as long as you have that inventive mind and shit-eating grin at your disposal.”

He presses his mouth upon Silver’s stunned lips and then lies back down, smiling slightly at having silenced Silver.

Silver lies there overwhelmed by Flint’s words. For a moment he can’t speak, and then he pushes himself up to swing his body up and over, straddling Flint, who looks up at him with startled eyes.

“What are you doing?”

“I want you again. Now.” Silver’s frank in his meaning, verbal and physical, pressing himself hard against Flint’s body. His body's already responding to his internal need, and he needs Flint again.

Flint rises admirably, already half hard, and fully so by the time Silver’s done.

Silver sinks back down upon him with a slow exhale of breath. Flint steadies Silver’s hips with his fingers, holding on just enough to hold him firmly, but not to control or force him. A new blend of gentle and rough, somewhere in between, is what Silver imagines this is.

He likes it.

He rides Flint slowly at first, watching the man’s face as Silver moves over him. This too, he never tires of.

At the beginning when they started to fuck, Flint’s eyes were always angry, when they met, when they touched. He never had to look in them to see the visceral rage there, but sometimes Silver did all the same. He did it to remind himself who he was fucking, it wasn’t just some sailor in an alley that he could leave behind and never think twice about. Flint was dangerous, Flint could leave him mangled.

In the early days after an interlude Silver found himself more energized. Something in the air after they fucked made his breathing easier, his body more alive. Somehow Flint gave him life.

Now there’s this, whatever this. It won’t last forever, but for as long as it does, Silver’s not letting go. Flint is _his_ , he’s claiming him now, his captain, his pirate, _his_.

He’s moving faster, harder, taking Flint deeper in his body, making Flint gasp. His fingers dig into Silver’s hips. Silver’s panting too, chest heaving, his leg aches in the straps, but he won’t relinquish this.

“ _John_.”

Silver stutters to a halt, staring down at Flint. Those green eyes stare up at him relentless and piercing as ever.

“It can be whatever we make it.”

Silver blinks. “What?”

“None of this has to be defined by society.” Flint murmurs. “We make it what we want it to be, what we choose to make it.”

He’s saying this more to himself than Silver, more as a promise of what he wants, what he won’t let happen again. Silver understands this somehow. He nods.

And then Flint’s hand moves up, wrapping around his cock making Silver gasp.

“Come for me.”

“That an order?” Silver murmurs automatically. His cock is still sensitive but Flint’s fingers wake it to fullness with easy strokes.

Flint’s smile is beautiful; no one ever tells him that it is, but it is. “Maybe.”

“Well, I’ve never been too good at following orders.”

Flint laughs and just strokes his cock until Silver comes all over his chest.

 *  *  *

The first time he had ordered Silver to come, Silver had resisted. As much as he enjoys this, whatever it is, and as much as his heart quickens and his cock hardens when Flint does give him orders, he doesn’t _want_ to enjoy it. 

Flint glances over at him. “Did you not hear what I said?”

“I did.” Silver said nonchalantly as though his captain isn’t pressing him back against his desk, his hand on Silver’s cock.

“And?”

“Maybe I’m not ready.”

He half expects Flint to simply toss him out, if he doesn’t hurry up and finish when Flint wants him to. That has happened before, and Silver had spent an uncomfortable time until he’d gotten a private hammock and finished himself off.

This time though Flint doesn’t. Instead his grasp tightens, stroking his nail along the sensitive underside of Silver’s cock until Silver grunts faintly.

“I gave you an order.”

“And I said, maybe I’m not ready.” Silver shoots back.

Flint moves like a tiger, rolling him flat on his stomach so he’s trapped. He’s still got a hand on Silver’s dick; Silver’s still hard.

“When I tell you to come,” Flint whispers in his ear, “You come.”

“Make me.” Silver grunts.

Flint doesn’t hold back. He strokes Silver roughly from base to tip, working him hard. Silver widens his stance, bracing his hands against the desk, trying to hold out. He doesn’t want to give Flint the satisfaction.

Flint mutters something under his breath, spits on his hand and starts stroking Silver slower.

Silver bites his lip, but this is too impossible. He can’t hold out against this slow, subtle touch. Flint’s hand knows his cock intimately at this point, and he shifts his grip just right, rubbing his fingertip over the head.

Then his lips are on the back of Silver’s neck. “When I give you an order,” Flint whispers, again kissing Silver’s neck with a slow sensuous press of his lips, “You follow it.”

Silver bucks his hips, thrusting his cock into Flint’s fist in response as he comes. Flint grins against his neck, kissing him again as he holds Silver till he’s completely spent.

*  *  *

Silver goes up on deck afterward, to just clear his head. It’s not his fault that his cock wants to follow Flint’s orders. Silver’s still got command of his brain. He'll keep that whatever Flint does.

He rests his hands on the railing, gazing out at the night around him with a smile on his lips. The future is full of possibilities and for once he has a good grasp of his own destiny. With Flint at his side, there’s no telling what tomorrow may hold.


End file.
